Batman: Knight of Gotham
by Vashwhyssrs
Summary: Gotham City has been a city plagued by crime for 200 years, but recently the streets have been quiet. Is this new lapse in crime a good thing, or a simple calm before the storm? A new breed of criminal is coming, and Gotham will need a hero. A Dark Knight of Justice.
1. Prologue

A/N In honor of Batman day, I've decided to post the prologue and first chapter of the Batman story I've been working on. I hope you enjoy.

OooooO

Gotham City, a large metropolitan port city in the south of New Jersey, was the number one city in America in its rate of criminal activity. Since its founding, almost two hundred years ago, Gotham has been plagued with lawlessness.

For the past four decades the city was engulfed in a gang war the likes that no other city in the country has ever seen. The four main gangs had ripped at each other for years constantly taking and losing territory. The first was the Italians, led by Carmine Falcone and Salvator Maroni, who to this day run in weapons and racketeering. A few years ago, Salvator and Carmine had a falling out and separated their gang into two.

The second biggest gang was the local chapter of the Russian Bravta, led by a man named Lester Buchinsky. The Russians dealt mostly with drug trafficking and extortion. The third was was a little more enigmatic, the Chinese Triad who occupied most of China Town and west Gotham. The fourth was more local, born and raised in Gotham and led by a man named Gamble who owned a number of Casinos and hotels in Amusement Mile.

There were smaller gangs of course, the most prominent of which was led by someone known only as the Penguin. The Penguin had risen in recent years as a rival arms dealer to the Falcones and the Maronis.

The strangest thing, however, was that in the last nine years the gang war had ceased. Crime had not reduced any, but overall acts of violence had all but vanished. This new found peace between the gangs was unsettling to the people of Gotham. Rival gang members would pass each other on the streets with acknowledgement, whereas normally there would be a violence.

Drugs and thievery were the number one concern for the average citizen. One such drug dealer set up shop on a lone corner in Bristol. The nights were dark in Gotham, and nobody cared about some lowlife dealing crack on a street corner. Not one person cared about the junkies who the dealer fed. Not one person cared what happened to him, or what sent him to the hospital with four broken ribs, a sprained wrist and a shattered nose.

And while no police man cared about the low time drug dealer there were two, however, that were forced to look into the mysterious assault. Detectives James Gordon and Harvey Bullock, former Homicide current Vice, were sent into to question the man. In a half lucid state, brought on by morphine, the drug dealer described being assaulted not by a man, but by a monster. A giant black monster with white eyes had descended from the air, it's snarling maw demanding where he got his product. At least that was what he claimed had happened.

On the roof of Gotham General Hospital, the two detectives discussed what they had heard. Gordon was smoking, a nasty habit that he was trying to quit, as Bullock spoke. "That's the third dealer this month who claims to have been beaten by a flying monster."

"There are no such thing as monsters, Harvey." Gordon said. "Flying or otherwise."

"Seems a little too coincidental."

"There are no coincidences. Someone attacked them all, probably another gang." Gordon threw his cigarette bud off of the roof.

"The gangs haven't fought in years, why start now?" Bullock said as they headed back down from the roof.

"Let's find out."


	2. Chapter 1

OooooO

The darkness in Gotham was rarely disturbed so late into the night, but tonight a shadow moved across the rooftops of the Narrows. Gothams most rundown district was home to many underprivileged families and abandoned buildings. The shadow ran, jumping over a gap between buildings, and landed in a crouch on a ledge overlooking what was supposed to be one of the many abandoned buildings.

This building was the source, or at least one of them, of the drugs that flooded Gothams streets. One hard blink of the eye activated the special contact lenses in the shadows eyes making the world around him turn blue. He scanned the building looking for a source of power, which he found on the roof. On his shoulders was a cape made from thick black cloth, with a touch it hardened allowing the shadow to freely glide to the other rooftop.

The power box on the roof was only guarded by a simple padlock. With great strength the shadow grabbed hold of the cabinet door and pried it loose, the pad lock snapping off as he pulled the door off of its hinges. A few wires ripped out of the box, and the building inside was left in darkness as the power went off.

OooooO

The interior of the building was one of the largest drug labs in the city, it was also a main source of income for the Bravta. Dozens of people at their stations worked, most of them vagrants who needed the work. Some cooked up the various narcotics while others packed them into bags labeled with the Brava emblem. There was a constant stream of armed guards patrolling, mostly to keep the works from using the products instead of just making them.

The workers stopped when lights suddenly cut out. Many lifted their clear goggles off of their eyes with rubber gloved hands, looking around in the darkness. The darkness was broken by the guards who all carried flashlights. "Get back to work." The head guard, Victor commanded in his heavy Russian accent. "Piotr, get the lights." When the other guard didn't respond Victor added. "Piotr?"

"Over here!" One of the other guards shouted. His flashlight was pointed up. Victor shined his light up where the other guard light was, and there was Piotr hanging upside down silent and unmoving. He gently swung back and forth suspended by his ankle by a black cord.

Victor was unsure why, but he slowly moved his light upwards, and he saw it. Hanging upside down above Piotr was a creature, large and black with long pointed ears and deep white eyes. It just stood there, upside down, staring at them. One of the other guards panicked and opened fire, the shots from his sub-machine gun lighting up the dark as the workers ducked under their tables for protection. Victor stood unblinking, as the creature disappeared into the dark.

The guards search around, finding nothing. Then Victor heard a yell along with a burst of gun fire, then silence. Victor found the guard who had just fired slump up against the wall, still with blood trailing from his head up the wall. Victor heard something move behind him. He turned about face and unloaded a burst from his MP5 into the darkness.

There was a crash of glass and wood. Victor found another guard in the middle of the broken remains of one of the tables, broken glassware and equipment covering him. "Who is left?" Victor called to the other guards. No one answered.

Victor heard the swift rustle moving behind him again, and once again he turned around and fired the sub-machine gun and again again it nothing but some concrete wall on the opposite side of the room. Cursing, Victor threw down his now empty MP5 and drew his sidearm. He heard the noise again, and again he fired into the dark, but this time he heard a soft tump. This time Victor had hit something.

Moving his flashlight Victor saw it. The creature was on the floor still. Victor slowly stepped up to it, ready to fire again if moved. Then it's white eyes snapped open, and with inhuman speed it sprang up. The shadowy creature grabbed hold of Victors arm, his gun flying out of his hand in to the dark. The flashlight fell from Victors other hand as the creature twisted his arm, snapping the bone in two. Victor cried out in pain, but it was short lived. The next second the Russian gangster was flying up into the air, and the second after that he was hitting the ground, hard.

The creature leaned over him and in a growling voice said. "Where is your boss!"

"I don't," Victor started but as soon as he said the second word the creatures foot slammed down onto Victors broken arm.

"Where is he!" The creature yelled over Victors agony.

"He has meeting, we don't know where." Victor said through pain induced tears.

"Now go to sleep." The creature growled. The last Victor saw of it was its fist coming down at him.

OooooO

The Gotham City Police Department arrived less than twenty minutes later, arresting most of the people inside the drug den. The ones who weren't arrested, the guards mostly, were being sent to Gotham General Hospital for broken bones, shock, and head trauma.

Vice detectives Gordon and Bullock were on the scene. "Biggest drug bust on the east coast in the last five years." Said Bullock. "The workers claim that they saw, get this, a giant bat like creature taking down the Russians."

"Two drug related incidents with this 'bat creature' in one night." Gordon said. "I don't like this."

"Which part?" Bullock asked. "That are jobs were done for us, or that you were wrong about this bat thing?" Gordon didn't answer his partner, but he did ponder the question on on the entire ride back to the thirty-second precinct. "I don't know about you Gordon, but I'm checking out for the night." Bullock said as they pulled up to the station. "You need a ride?"

"No, I'm going to get started on the paperwork." Gordon said as he left the car.

"Don't work too hard," Bullock called after him. "You'll make me look bad!"

"G'night Harv." Gordon called back. The precinct was quiet at night often with a skeleton crew of about four to five officers that were ready to answer an emergency call. No one bothered him on his way to the office he shared with Bullock. Gordon entered the office, closed the door behind him and rubbed his tired eyes under his glasses. He flipped the light switch like he had done a thousand times, but the lights didn't go on. He flipped the switch a couple more times and still nothing happened.

That's when Gordon saw something in the dark. A shadow stood in the dark corner, the only thing visible were its white eyes that stared back at him. Instinctively Gordon drew his sidearm, but in the half second he took his eyes off of the shadow it had crossed the distance between them, grabbing Gordon's arm and twisting the gun out of his hand.

Holding his wrist Gordon watched as the shadow retreated back into the corner, placing the now disassembled pistol on Gordon's desk. Then it spoke. "Lester Buchinsky is flooding the streets with drugs," It's voice a growl. "Why has no one brought him in?"

It wanted to talk? Gordon was hesitant, but he spoke. "We arrested him twice, but there was never enough evidence to convict him. There's never enough evidence to get any of them, and what we get is too general for a direct link. And even if we could, no D. convict."

"What if I brought you a enough evidence to link Buchinsky to his crimes?" The shadow asked.

"Wouldn't you rather just break his arm?" Gordon asked almost sarcastically.

"I didn't say I wouldn't."

"We'd still need a D.A. who will convict."

"I'm sure you'll find someone. You're one of the only good cops left."

When the shadow turned to the window, Gordon found himself stopping it. "Wait, who are you. Why are you doing this."

"Who I am doesn't matter." It said simply, looking over its shoulder. "I just want to give this city to the people who deserve it. Not left in the hands of men like Buchinsky."

The shadow leapt out of the window, and Gordon ran to his desk pulling out his spare weapon from the top draw. He aimed out the window looking for it, but the shadow was gone. Defeated, Gordon realized something was wrong with his gun. He checked it and found that the firing pin was missing. He quickly found it sitting next to the pens on his desk.

"Son of a bitch." He said quietly to himself. Finally with a flicker the lights came back on.

OooooO

On the corner five blocks away from the thirty-second precinct police station a man stood leaning against the side of a closed liquor store. Most people in Gotham stayed out of the streets at night through fear of running into one of the gangs, but this man stood calmly with a small smile on his face. He was tall, well built but thin, and was well dressed in a black suit with a long coat. Red tinted sunglasses covered his eyes as he enjoyed a large sandwich for an early morning snack that he held in gloved hands.

"So how'd it go?" He said in his playful voice, his mouth half full, to seemingly no one.

"Dead end." The shadow said from darkness on other side of the wall. "Buchinsky was at some kind meeting, not overlooking the drugs like you said."

"No need to get testy. I said he might be there tonight, sometimes the bosses meet up. One of those meetings just happened to be tonight."

"Where do they meet?" The shadow demanded.

He looked over into the ally over his shoulder, looking where the shadow hid. "Don't know. It's a well kept secret, they say the location changes."

"They say a lot of things."

"Don't I know it. Don't worry though, I'm sure you've just pissed ole' Buchy off. He'll come looking for you, he'll be angry, and he'll walk right into your hands."

"You make it sound easy." The shadow said.

"That's because it is. You're pretty smart, I can tell. Stick with me though and you'll really learn how people think."

"Why help me?" The shadow asked him for the second time since they met.

He just smiled at him again, the same thing he did the last time, then he turned back to his sandwich. "I let you know through our mutual friend if I get another lead."

Knowing he wouldn't get anything else out of the man named Jacob tonight the shadow left without a word.

OooooO

Wayne Manor was one of the oldest houses in Gotham, maybe even in all of America. It was built long ago as a shelter during the Revolutionary War, and purchased by wealthy fur traders who were some of the earliest of the Wayne family.

The Manor however was often dark and cold. The only person who lived was a British man who once served the family who lived there. He took care of the inside of the house by himself, rarely leaving the mansion save for every Saturday where he would go into the city.

Beneath the manor grounds ran a system of caves, tunnels, and caverns that ran for miles underground. A motorcycle was running through one of the tunnels heading towards one of the cave. The motorcycle couldn't be found in any dealership, it was technologically advanced and designed for military infiltration mission. It was never put into production as it was deemed to expensive for military use. It consisted of an armored central pod that had the driver lean forward to avoid gunfire, with two additional pods where the wheels were housed. The Pod also had several weapons, had the ability to scale walls in emergency, and was light enough that it could glide over minefields without setting any of them off.

The Pod belonged to a dead man, or at least a man that everyone believed to dead. He rode into the large cave that he used as his home base from where he waged his one man war on Gothams gangs. The Pod wasn't very loud, but the motion of it caused the citizens of the cave to swarm in a frenzy. The caves true owners where the collective of omnivorous bats, but they treated him as one of their own. The flew around him in swarms as parked the Pod on the octagonal vehicle platform.

Their was a time when bats frightened him, but as he stepped off of the motorcycle one could see that was no longer the case. He was one with them, but he was neither man or bat. He was a Batman.

He was six feet tall, his body built to physical perfection, with a determined expression that almost seemed permanent. Taking off the horned cloth mask that covered his head, he approached his desk of computers, the twelve monitors staring back at him with their blue screens.

On one of the monitors was the largest bat in the cave, a fruit bat the size of a fully grown Pug sat staring at him as it always did. The roughly named King of the bats often waited for the Batman to return as a dog would loyally wait for its master. Many believed that bats were blind when in reality they had very good eye sight. King was living proof.

He gently pet the large bat with one hand and took of the special Memory-Cloth cape off of his shoulders with the other. He threw the cape onto the back of his chair, turned to his computer and decide to type a quick message.

Echolocal1046 to Oracle1: "Failed to find Buchinsky. Try again tomorrow. Is Glaser reliable?"

He sent the message but he didn't expect a reply this late at night, he would get his response in the morning.

With nothing left to do for tonight the Batman removed his armored gauntlets and the gloves underneath as well as his armored boots setting them both aside. Next was the utility belt of pouches where he kept several items and tools that he might need, and placed it with his boots. Finally he removed the Kevlar vest that currently had two slugs planted firmly where his heart would have been if left unprotected.

"Armor needs to finish." He grumbled to himself as he gently rubbed the bruises on his chest. He was waiting for a set of light weight armor to finish but it was taking longer he had hoped to synthesize. Normal Kevlar wasn't strong or reliable enough for his mission, he couldn't afford to continue running around in grey sweats and a simple bulletproof vest.

Leaning back in his chair with a heavy, tired sigh the Batman closed his eyes, crossed his arms and gently slipped off to sleep as morning begun to shine over Gotham.

OooooO


	3. Chapter 2

A/N: I've decided to upload the rest of what I have. Thanks for reading. Please point out typos.

OooooO

The Batman woke to a soft clang on the desk in front of him. The source of the noise that woke him was a shiny silver serving tray.

"It appears that you have elected to sleep down here again, Master Bruce." An all to familiar English accent said to him.

"Bats do sleep in caves, Alfred." He said rubbing his eyes. Alfred Pennyworth was his caretaker and has been Bruce Wayne's surrogate father ever since was eight. Even after returning from his seven year journey, Alfred was still there to take care of him.

For seven years, during which he was declared legally dead, Bruce Wayne had traveled the world under a number of fake identities learning from a variety of different masters. Everything from martial arts to swordsmanship to technological invention and everything in between. After he returned under the cover of night, Bruce had let only Alfred know he was still alive and Alfred welcomed him back as if that eight year gap had not even occurred. Though Alfred didn't quite agree with the Batmans crusade.

"Your usual." Alfred said, pushing the tray in front of him.

"Thank you." Bruce had learned a long time ago that he needed a lot of calories to do what he did. He needed a lot of food, but he often never had the time to actually eat. The burrito was the perfect way for him to eat everything he needed in a short time so most of his meals was in that form, and for a British man Alfred sure knew how to make a mean breakfast burrito.

"Your new chest piece has arrived." Alfred said looking at the two bullets in the Kevlar vest as Bruce started to eat the burrito that was size of a his forearm, which was huge. "Mr. Fox dropped it off an hour ago."

Bruce grunted a response, he was still sleepy. He was glad that his suit was slowly coming together, though he wished the process didn't take so long.

"Anything on the news?" Bruce asked between bites.

Alfred sighed sadly. "More reports of missing persons in the Narrows and Sheldon Park, I'm afraid. Three more last night, that's twenty this month alone."

Alfred had asked him repeatedly to investigate the missing persons case, but taking on the drug trade had taken up too much time. Batman was only one man. "And the police have no leads? Still?"

"It's as if those poor souls vanish into thin air."

The situation was getting out of hand. Bruce made a note to himself to ask Jacob Glaser if he knew anything about it. Glaser seemed to know a little about everything that went on in Gotham, Batman had benefited on his help, but Bruce didn't trust him. He was just too happy, he just knew too much. Jacob Glaser was more than meets the eye, but so far he was an asset that Batman couldn't ignore. He also seemed to be eating every time they met.

Bruce checked his messages and saw he had received a reply from the message he sent this morning. While Jacob Glazer was Batmans eyes on the streets, he also needed someone online.

Oracle1 to Echolocal1046: Glaser trustworthy, just creepy. Will look into Butchinsky further.

Bruce wrote back immediately.

Echolocal1046 to Oracle1: Looking into missing persons in meantime. Any leads?

Oracle1 to Echolocal1046: Glaser at Gotham Stadium. Ask him. Twenty minutes.

Bruce didn't write back, but he did nod his head as if the other person could see him. "Alfred I'm heading out early."

"And here I thought bats were nocturnal." Alfred said as he shooed King away from his shiny silver tray.

"Oracle gave me a potential lead on the missing people, but I need to leave now." He grabbed the brown coat he kept in case he needed to go out in the day and slipped it on. He quickly wrapped a scarf around his neck and grabbed a baseball cap. "Create a case file folder while I'm gone. I'll be back soon."

Alfred didn't say anything as Bruce quickly wolfed down what was left of his breakfast and went down to vehicle platform. He pulled out his phone, pressed a number combination, and watched as the Pod transformed into a normal motorcycle.

With a rev of the engine, Bruce Wayne was off towards Gotham stadium. The sun stung his eyes as made his was to the highway leading into the city. He didn't often go out during the day, but when he did it looked like a stranger. During the day, Gotham looked almost normal. But Gotham was sick, and that thought made Bruce mad.

Bruce was at Gotham Stadium rather quickly. Most people were already at work, so traffic was at a minimum. The Gotham Wildcats were in preseason practice today, so the stadium was mostly empty aside from the athletes throwing around foot balls. Bruce could one man in the stands, sitting alone and eating an ice cream cone.

Bruce tugged his scarf over his nose, made sure his baseball cap was secure and made his way up the stands. The man was in fact Jacob Glaser, still with that same half grin he always had, still wearing his red tinted sun glasses. Bruce briefly wondered how a grown man could be eating strawberry ice cream at nine thirty in the morning, but Jacob spoke without looking at him.

"Strawberry, with chocolate chips if you were wondering." He said. "So, meeting during the day. Thats new."

Bruce sat next to him without looking at him. He leaned forward in his seat trying to look casual. "I asked Oracle for information on the people that have been going missing. He sent me to you."

"You know what I love about football?" Jacob asked. He often went off on random tangents, acting like he was having a different conversation than Bruce. "The fact that people pay money to watch millionaires throw ball at each other and ruin their knees for life. It kind of funny, isn't it." He paused. "So the big bad bat wants to find some people gone missing. I've heard something's. Whispers."

"Like what?"

"Tick Tock." Jacob wagged his finger. "Rumor has it the sewers is a great place to meet new faces."

The sewers? Jacob liked to talk like this. Often being vague or using riddles, and word play, but he was pointing him in a direction. He was saying the sewers in the Narrows had a connection to the missing people.

Bruce got up to leave feeling he had what he was going to get from Jacob today, but he added. "Tick tock, tick tock. Careful not to feed the animals. Otherwise they'll expect you to keep coming back. Tick. Tock"

Bruce looked back at Jacob, trying to dissect his cryptic message. Jacob just sat there, half smiling like always did. Bruce moved on though, he had work to do.

It was a half hour to the Narrows from Gotham Stadium, so he was out on the streets in no time. He went to a liquor store, bought a bottle of the first thing he saw trying to avoid suspicion, and sat down in front of the store on the curb. It was no accident that Bruce chose this particular to store to go too. The last reported missing person was around this area, so this was the best place to look.

Bruce did his best to pretend that he was just some drunk drinking in the gutter, something he had a lot of practice with. He kept an eye out for passers by and when he was sure no one was watching he reached into his pocket, producing a small silver orb. Pushing down on a tile, Bruce discreetly rolled the orb into the storm drain.

The orb was tiny camera device created to map out wreckage for safety works to easily find people trapped should buildings ever collapse. A 3D image of the sewer below the street pinned to Bruce's phone, showing him a detailed map of the environment down there. At first it seemed normal. It was quiet, save for the sound of dripping, and rat walked by showing minimal interest in the orb.

That's when he saw it. Bruce could see blood stains on the wall opposite of the orb, whether they were fresh or not was impossible to tell, but he'd be getting a closer look later. Jacobs lead was solid as it turned out, but this was looking like it was turning from a missing persons case into a homicide.

OooooO

"Please use caution sir." Alfreda said hours later. "Remember who has to clean your suit."

Batman was almost ready to go out to further investigate the missing people. It was taking longer than he expected to secure his new chest armor in place. Without a full suit to attach too, the chest piece needed extra time and leather straps to be worn, but it offered more protection than any Kevlar vest could.

"I'll be carful." Bruce said as slipped on his right gauntlet.

"Are you sure this Jacob Glaser isn't just playing games with you?"

"Part of me is afraid of that." Bruce told the truth. It was almost impossible to tell whether or not Jacob was being serious or not, but so far his intel was good. "Hopefully Batman finds the source of the missing people tonight." Throwing the memory cloth cape over his shoulders, which locked in nicely with the chest piece, and slipping on his mask, Batman was off again on the Pod.

Batman felt a little more confidant with the chest piece, but was careful not to get too reliant on any one piece of gear. The alley next to the liquor store had perfect sewer access, so that was where he would start. It was easy enough moving through the city at night, the Pod moving like a shadow through the streets.

Parking in the alleyway, Batman took a grapple cable from attached to the Pod and hooked it up to the manhole cover. With a press of a button on his phone, which was set into his left gauntlet, the Pod retracted its cable, lifting up and removing the heavy iron disk.

Batman dropped into the sewer, it was a quick walk to where he found the blood earlier that day. Picking up the orb and putting it in a pouch on his belt, Batman went to investigate the blood. A hard blink activate his contact lenses, and he used his wrist computer to cycle through vision modes.

"Hmm," Batman put a finger to his ear activating his comm unit. "Penny1," He called.

"Here as usual, Master B." Alfred said over the radio.

"The level of oxidation on the blood sample is at least two days old. I can't say for certain if victim is alive or not. Not without a body. Wait," Batman could see a trail leading away from the blood. It looked like someone was being dragged. "See if the computer can find a match for the sample, there was trail."

"Will do." Alfred said.

Batman silently followed the trail. He walked for what seemed like hours through the maze that was Gothams sewer system. The trail had ended, so Batman had continued down where the trail pointed to no avail. He doubled back to the blood trail and checked the spot where it ended more closely. The end of trail seemed to just stop, as if the person the blood belonged to disappeared into thin air.

"Penny1," He said. "The trail has gone cold. The victim has seemed to have vanished at this point and..." He paused at the sound of water displacement coming from behind him, then felt a giant, icy cold had wrap around his head. Before he knew what was happening, Batman was dragged under the water.

"Master Bruce? Master Bruce!"


	4. Chapter 3

OooooO

Lester Butchinsky was furious. Last night his biggest drug factory had been shut down, and many of his employees had been arrested. He had lost over fifty million dollars in product and equipment in one night.

Butchinsky, a large, muscular man, with electrical burns on the right side of his face had spent years building up the drug trade in Gotham. His men looked to him guidance and leadership as the local Bravia Captain, an the other boss' depended on his income. Without the trade, Butchinsky would lose relevance, and losing relevance was the same as losing his in Gotham.

As mad as the other crime boss' would be, that would pale in comparison to the fury of the Boss. The one who all of the crime family's answered too. Butchinsky sat across from the Boss' right hand man, the only man the Boss would talk to directly, Roman Sionis.

Sionis was a rich, stuck up brat, but for some reason the Boss trusted him above all others. "So are the rumors true, Butch?" Sionis asked. "They say there's a giant bat hunting for you."

"It is bullshit." Butchinsky answered. "It's just a man who doesn't realize that he's dead!"

"Relax." Sionis said. "The Boss isn't mad at you. If he was, we wouldn't be having this conversation. But the others are. Maroni is especially sore that he's losing this weeks cut, but the Boss is holding him at bay. He's giving you a chance to correct your mistake."

"I can't just pull fifty mill out of thin air, and the cops are watching me, so we can't just walk in a take it all back."

Sionis raised a hand. "That's not what the Boss wants. He wants you to prove your worth. Kill this bat man thing, and all is forgiven. You know consequences should you fail." Sionis raised up his other hand which held a large briefcase. "You'll need this. The Boss said it was an old friend."

With that Roman Sionis stood, placed the case on the desk in between the two of them, then left the room. Butchinsky turned the briefcase around, and opened it. Inside was something he had not seen in many years. He had left it behind after he was promoted to Bravta captain. It stared back at him like an old friend.

Lester Butchinsky stood, taking out one of the gauntlets from the case. He turned to look out the window behind him and slipped his hand into the gauntlet. He balled his hand into a fist and the armored glove crackled to life with electricity.

After ten long years, the Electrocutioner was back.

OooooO

Batman couldn't breathe. A giant inhuman hand had wrapped around his head and dragged him under the water. It was so fast, so sudden, that he didn't realize what was happening until it already had. With little else he could do, Batman lashed out kicking his way in the dark water. He wasn't sure what, but he definitely hit something as the big hand let him go.

There was enough separation that Batman was able turn around to see his assailant. He wished he hadn't. It was shaped like a man, but that was about it. It was easily ten feet tall, six hundred pounds of pure muscle, and was covered head to toe in thick green scales. It stared back at him with yellow eyes and sharp teeth. For moment there was stillness, then the beast charged at him.

It was clearly much faster than Batman was in the water. It was back on him before Batman could react. It grabbed him again, this time launching them both out of the water. Batman felt an explosion of pain as his back and head slammed against the sewer ceiling.

What happened next surprised him. "Where is she!?" The beast man yelled.

"What?" Batman managed to say.

It whipped him around, slamming Batman into the sewer floor. "Where is she!?" It repeated.

"Who?" The beast man leaned in close, the yellow eyes of a predator looking into the white lenses that were the eyes of a hunter.

It pupils softened from thin vertical slits to round human ones. "You don't know. I smell truth on you."

It let him go, allowing Batman to catch his breath. "I'm looking into reports of missing people. It led me here."

"They took her. Like the others. I've seen them." It said.

"Who?" Batman asked.

"They wear black, like you. They come at night, like you. Thought you were one."

"Do they have a name?"

The creature looked at him. "No."

"You're trying to find you're friend?" It nodded. "Then I can help you. If you tell me everything you know about them."

It turned away for a moment, clearly contemplating something, then it turned back to him and nodded. "This way." It started swimming though the water, keeping its head above the surface. "Last saw them go this way. They took a woman last night, were gone before I could reach them."

Batman followed. "Who did they take from you?" He was trying to better understand the beast man.

"Jade." It said. "The only person to not see me as a monster. My friend. They are the real monsters. Taking woman, children. And no one cares."

"I care." Batman said determined. "Who are you?"

"Croc." Was all it, he said. They came to a stop. "Here." He said. "They always disappear here. Like ghosts."

"Here?" Batman put his hand on the wall where Croc had pointed to it. "There has to something. There is always something."

"I tried to break the wall down, many times, but it doesn't budge." Batman listened as Croc rose from the water behind him, much less hostile than before.

"No it wouldn't." Batman tapped his knuckles on the brick wall. He activated his lenses, this time looking creases and dust displacement. "It's a door." He could see the outline of a door around the brick, hidden from site. Only someone who knew it was there could find it, but no could stay hidden from Batman. There was always a way out.

Batman switched vision modes again, looking for finger prints. He found some imprinted in a pattern like a number pad. Batman traced the prints, but nothing happened. He did it again, but still nothing. After two more attempts there was a metallic clicking, and the section of brick wall pulled it self back. It opened like a door.

Batman looked over his shoulder at Croc, who was staring at the doorway in awe. The went through the doorway, on the other side was narrow hallway carved into the rock, it was just big enough for Crocs massive size to fit through.

"I know you now." Croc said suddenly. "You are the bat. We here the rumors. The whispers. People fear you. People don't believe in you."

"I don't need people to believe in me."

"People fear what they don't understand." Croc said clearly speaking from experience.

"That's what I count on."

"You want it? To be feared? To them I am always a monster, so I hide. Why would you want that?" The way he spoke now sounded like a child trying understand something it simply couldn't. Croc was clearly a victim of ridicule, misunderstanding, and fear through hatred.

"I don't pretend to understand myself. But it's what I need to be. Stop." Batman put a hand out to stop Croc. They had come too an open cavern, they had stumbled into one of the many cave systems deep beneath Gotham, but it wasn't just another cave. There were buildings and street corners, all run down and rotten.

"Where are we?" Croc asked.

"Wonder City. I didn't think it was real." Batman answered. "In forties they built Wonder City as a City of Tomorrow, but an earthquake buried half of it underground. It looks like they built over it." Batman looked around with thermal lenses looking for heat signatures. He found one, a big one. A huge red and white blob in one of the old buildings.

"I found something." Batman said. "Go slow. It might be unstable down here." Batman led the way to the building, quickly scanned the entrance for any potential traps. When he determined that there wasn't any traps, Batman kicked the door down.

On the other side was a cage built into the wall. They could see seven people huddled together inside. They looked at him briefly before turning away in fear. They thought he was one of their captors just like Croc did.

Croc stormed in after him, seeing the cage he yelled. "Jade!"

"Waylon?" A little voice could be heard.

A little girl came out from the shadows of the cage, no older than six years old. "Jade." He put hand against the bars of the cage and the girl did the same. "Did they hurt you?" He asked.

She shook her head. "They said they were saving us. But they took the others away."

"Hang on." Batman approached the cage. "We'll get you out." He started looking for a way to open the cage but Croc stepped back, grabbed the bars and pulled. The metal cage ripped apart in the crocodile mans hands. The girl jumped up and hugged the green man. The other seven people seemed hesitant, but they gathered the courage to leave their cell.

"Croc, can you lead these people back to the surface?" Batman asked.

"Yes." He nodded.

"Then go. I'm not done here."

Jade looked at Batman. "I saw them go that way." She pointed south out of the building. "That's where they took people."

Batman looked at her, then at the direction she pointed, then he nodded. He moved to leave without a word, but stopped when Croc said. "Thank you."

Batman didn't reply, but he gave him a small nod. Batman did his job, but he wasn't finished, he had to find who was behind this. He followed the path through the underground city, the quiet and the darkness was so dense that it would make any other man feel panic, but Batman was no normal man. He was in his element, a hunter looking for his prey. Even as a child, Batman found it easier to see in the dark, which most children feared. Batman never feared the dark, it was his comfort zone.

Batman soon found a light in the darkness, which he followed slowly and cautiously. Then he found something he wasn't expecting. Batman had found an operating theater. It was by no means professional like what you find in a hospital, but it was obviously well used. There were trays filled with medical equipment, some rusty, some clean, and some had flecks of dried blood. There were gas containers in the corner of the room that were unmarked. There were glass tanks filled with live insects that swarmed around each other looking for escape. At the center was a blood stained operating table with crude leather straps. And on the back wall was an old metal desk with laptop on it.

The laptop was on indicating that its owner was here very recently. It was open to some kind of chat room between three users who only went by initials. The three were JC, LV, and TE. The three gave no indication on who they were or what the wanted from each other, but the users JC and TE were discussing different methods of brain surgery with LV making crude remarks. By the signature of the chat room, Batman surmised the JC was the owner of the laptop.

Batman took a small USB drive that was hidden in one of his belt pouches and plugged it into the computer where it immediately begun to download the hard drives contents. He quickly typed up a message to Oracle saying that he would send him the contents and asked him to try and find out the identities of the three from the chat room. No sooner had Batman sent the message when he a sound. It was soft whimper almost completely silent. Anyone else would have missed it.

The sound came from behind the gas canisters. Batman was on top of them in the nest second, moving the canisters aside in the same motion. He was expecting to find the culprit of the kidnapings and possible illegal surgeon, but instead he found a thin man in a sweater vest curled up and shivering. Batman would have thought he was an addict who had gone to long without his fix, but one glance with his lenses showed that the mans heart rate was going off the charts.

The was terrified to put simply, but of what? Of Batman? Or something else? "Who are you?" Batman demand, still not sure what to make of him. "What is this place?"

The man didn't answer him, instead he just muttered to himself as if Batman wasn't even there. "He's coming back! He's coming back!" He muttered frantically.

"Who is?" This time Batman asked, trying to be a little more gentle.

Suddenly the jumped up, grabbing Batman by the arms. "Please!" He yelled, the look of complete and utter terror in his eyes was unlike anything Batman had ever seen. "You have to save me! Before he comes back!"

"Tell me who." Batman said again, and again it was as if the man could not hear him.

"Terrible things..." He said more quietly. "He makes me do such terrible things..." Then his head bowed and he went quiet and still.

For a moment Batman thought the man had died, but his lenses quickly eased his fear. The man had simply passed out leaving Batman with too many questions and not enough answers. Batman ran what the man said over and over in his head. The last thing he said is what stood out the most. "He makes me do such terrible things." He had said.

Batman was about to take the man up to the surface when he was stopped short. A blast of yellowish brown gas took him by surprised as it quickly engulfed his head. Caught off guard, Batman reeled back coughing and trying to wave the gas away with his arms. He could here laughter as his breath became shorter and thumping in the back of his head began.

Batman watched the man rise off of his feet, holding one of the gas canisters in his hands. His voice was deeper then Batman had remembered as he laughed at him. "What do we have here? A living myth lies before me." He reached into sweater vest pulling out what looked like a burlap sack. "I've always wondered what creatures of the night were afraid of, let's see." He pulled the sack over his head, showing that it was some kind of mask. "What do you fear?"

There was a loud screech that pounded into Batmans ears and clawed its way to the back of his mind. The mask the man wore opened at the mouth like some black portal to a dark dimension, and out from the never ending darkness crawled out a bat. It fought and clawed its ways out and it was joking by others. Soon Batman was only a child again, he was Bruce Wayne again as the bats swarmed and clawed at him. He tried to fight them off but they seemed to multiply when he did.

The more Bruce fought the louder the screeching became. He saw a pair of red eyes in the distance staring down on him with judgement. He ran, but the swarm followed him. And at the center was a creature, half human, half bat. It's eyes glowed white as its hollow mouth bared fangs at him. It reached out with its elongated arms pointing at him as if accusing him of something.

That's when Bruce heard the first gunshot, sounding as loud as thunder. He felt the ringing in his ears again, and he stopped dead in his tracks as the swarm surrounded him like some kind of tornado. The creature was now behind him, wielding a scythe almost as long as its body. Bruce heard the second gunshot, and the felt enormous pain in his side as the creature stabbed him through with the scythe blade.

Bruce screamed and lashed out, his training kicking in as he punched the creature. It disappeared into the dark void, and as it did Bruce ran again. He ran and ran and he didn't stop running, but he didn't seem to be going anywhere. There was only the void. He could feel his heart and brain pounding more intently with each passing second.

After what seemed like hours Bruce found five more bat creatures each one coming at him wielding weapons. With a roar Bruce lunged at them, he punched and kicked and snapped arms and legs until they disappeared. Panting and still bleeding, Bruce stood waiting for more to creature to show up.

Eventually one did, but this new bat creature was different. Unlike the others it had hair, long and flowing and as red as an apple. The color of the hair was soothing, it was familiar. It looked like his mothers hair. The new bat creature didn't seem like it wanted to attack him, instead it calmly walked to him, putting a hand gently on his face and suddenly he felt very sleepy. Very safe.

Then the Batman collapsed, falling into a deep sleep.


	5. Chapter 4

OooooO

Batman woke slowly, his head pounding like a jackhammer. He felt like he had the worst hangover someone could possibly have, even worse than the time he made the mistake of partying with Oliver Queen and Tommy Merlyn during his seventeenth birthday party.

Batman tried to sit up and when he did he felt a terrible pain in his side. Throwing off the blanket that he was under he saw that his waist was wrapped up in cloth bandages, which were coated in blood. His equipment was gone, but his pants were still on so.

"Alfred?" He said groggily. When his vision completely cleared from sleep he could see that he wasn't in the cave, or even the manor above it. "Shit." He cursed quietly to himself. He was in an unfamiliar apartment, and that was bad. He was on an orange couch, across from which was a chair where his gear sat quietly waited for him.

Not seeing anyone around, Bruce stood ignoring his pain as he had been taught too. As he started getting dressed he could hear the sound of the apartment door opening up behinds him. Unsure of who it was Bruce drew one on the bat shaped throwing knives from his belt.

"What are you doing!" A female voice shouted in more outrage than question. As Bruce begun to turn he heard the sound of a bag hitting the floor, and as he fully turned around the woman threw herself on him in a big hug that irritated his wound. "I thought you were dead." She said with what sounded like tears. Caught off guard, Bruce looked down to see that apple red hair from his nightmare. Then he felt her fist slam into his jaw. "What is wrong with you!?"

Bruce was looking at the last person he expected to see when he returned to Gotham, his twin cousin Katherine Kane. As children the two were close, they both shared the same birthday, and were usually the only kids at the party's their parents had thrown. Kate was there for him at his parents funeral as she was the only person who actually cared about him, besides Alfred of course. When Bruce left Gotham eight years ago, he left without telling her. It broke his heart to do it, but he had too. He hadn't planned on telling her he was back. How was he supposed to explain that the Bruce Wayne she grew up with was long dead.

"Nothing." He finally answered her.

"Nothing?" Kate asked with anger and annoyance. "You disappear for eight years, and all you have to say is 'nothing'? I thought you were dead, we all did."

"It's complicated." He said as he clasped his belt back on.

"Yeah I noticed! Last night I'm trying to sleep and hear some lunatic shouting about bats and kicking the crap out some punks as he bleeds to death! I'd say that's pretty complicated!"

"I don't have the time to explain everything to you. You shouldn't even..." Bruce found that he had trouble actually completing his sentence.

"You were never going to tell me you were alive were you?"

He looked down at the floor. "No."

Bruce didn't acknowledge it but Kate had been crying throughout the conversation. "You were my only friend for years, Bruce."

"I know."

"My mom died. My dad kicked me out. And every day I dreamed you'd come back from the dead."

Bruce wasn't surprised. "I know." He said. "The first thing I did when I came back was make sure you were safe. Which you were before now. Bruce Wayne died." He sighed. "I didn't want you to see what replaced him."

"What are you talking about?" Now she sounded confused. When Bruce didn't answer, she punched him again. "Tell me!"

"I left Gotham eight years ago. Seven years ago, Bruce Wayne died and Al Midrab took his place."

OooooO

Seven years ago two young men stood before the Master, their heads bowed in respect. They were the same height, the same weight, and shared the same hair color. Both were orphans who had journeyed far and scaled the frozen mountains of Tibet. They lived together. They trained together, and now they were being named together.

The Master who stood before them in robes of green and gold, his piercing green eyes looking through them into their very souls. "For as long as man has existed we've always asked ourselves 'Who am I?'. At the end, that is the true treasure of the world. There is nothing more powerful than 'Who am I?'. This is what the two of you have always looked for. It is what brought you to me and this ancient temple. You seek the answer from me, but only you can answer this question, for the answer is locked deep within you."

"You two share so much. You both come to me from prisons. For you," The master pointed at the man to Bruce's right. "Who payed for the sins of your farther, taking his place behind concrete and iron. And you," He pointed now to Bruce. "Trapped in your own mind, unable to break free."

"You may stand here before me, but you each still carry your prisons on your backs. Any further training for you will be pointless until you free yourselves. You must find your true selfs and answer the question." The Master turned around to face the pool behind him. He took a small wooden bowl, and filled it with the yellowish green liquid from the pool. The Master turned back again, and stepped up to them.

He presented the bowl to the other man. "Now you will each take a sip of this, it will unlock the deepest part of your minds and show you who you truly are."

Bruce watched as the other man took a sip from the bowl, his eyes glowing the same yellowish green as the liquid. "I see my people free." He finally said. "I see my boot on the throats of those who imprisoned us. I see fire and as I lead my people to a new age of conquest."

"Al Tadmir." The Master said as if reading the boys mind. "You will be a freedom fighter. Though not all will agree with you." For a moment Bruce could see the Master glance at him.

The Master then presented the bowl to Bruce. Bruce was about to drink, but he stopped himself. "You hesitate." The Master said. "You are afraid of what it will show you." The Master said like it was written on Bruce's face. Bruce nodded. "Your fear will always hold you back, you must conquer it."

Bruce nodded and steeled himself before drinking. It tasted like lime and copper, but soon he saw images like the other boy had. "What do you see?" The Master asked.

"I see a bat." Bruce answered.

"What is it doing?"

"Nothing. I see a snake, it's attacking rats, the bat started to attack the snake, letting the rats escape. It's hurt, but it won. The snake is running away."

"Al Midrab." The Master said. "You see yourself as a guardian of the weak, but at a great cost to yourself." The Master stepped back towards the pool, placing the bowl down as Bruce's head cleared. "You have both seen your true selfs. Now you can truly begin you're training."

The Master snapped his finger, and not even a whole second later came a number of dark shapes that begun to beat both of Bruce and the boy. "Fight, or die." The Master said. And that's what the two did. The fought and they kept fighting. Neither having stopped in the seven years since that day.

OooooO

It was about hour later after Bruce had told Kate the edited version of that day. The less she knew about those days the better. Bruce had called Alfred to tell him about where he was, and now he was on his way with the street clothes he wore to go out into day.

While waiting Bruce and Kate talked some more, mostly about Kates life in the years that Bruce was gone. She had been dishonorably discharged from the Army for reasons she said that she wasn't comfortable thinking about, much less talking about it. They asked each other if they were seeing anyone, both of them said no.

When Alfred finally arrived he invited Kate to dinner on Sunday, to Bruces dismay. He hadn't eaten dinner in months, but he would try to make time for it. Bruce changed into the clothes Alfred brought as Kate hugged the butler goodbye. She did the same to Bruce, and then they left, the BatSuit loaded into a suitcase that Alfred had brought.

They were on their way back to Wayne Manor, when Bruce received a call on his phone. He was mildly surprised to hear a modulated voice on the other end. "There's something you have to see."

Putting on the deeper voice of the Batman, Bruce answered. "Oracle. Usually you only send messages."

"The line is secure, if that's what you're asking. I thought we could use a little more trust."

"Is that why you're using a voice modulator?" Bruce asked, but it was more playful then he planned.

"I'm sure thats your natural voice as well."

Bruce all most smiled. "Did you get anything from the chat room I sent you?"

"I'll keep looking." Oracle said plainly. "But thats not why I called. There's something going around the Dark Web for you."

"How can you be sure?"

"It pretty specific. Here." Bruce looked at his phone where a video popped up. "Its from one of the fighting rings the Penguin hosts in Gotham, they livestream it daily. This is from last night."

The video started. The first thing Bruce saw was a crowd, a bunch of loud and unruly thugs by the look and sound of them. The video panned over to show the fighting ring, a large caged in octagon with a blood stained canvas floor. A woman in a striped blue suit with a microphone spoke as two men dragged a third away. The third man who was beaten to hell and had what looked like burns all over his face and body.

"Another victory! That makes ten tonight! Do you have anything to say to your fans!" The woman spoke to another man who was facing away from the camera. He was wearing some kind armor or apparatus around his torso that connected to a big pair of metal gloves, each one sparking with electricity from the knuckles and forearms. His hair was shaved down close to his head similar to an army style.

Then he turned to face the woman, showing half his face was red with electrical burn scars. Bruce knew who this man was, Lester Butchinsky. Butchinsky cracked his neck before answering. "I have a message for the man whose been messing with my business. The others might not believe you exist Bat, but I do. You want me! Here I am! I will kill you! Then," He pounded his chest, electricity sparking off of his glove as he did. "I'll jumpstart your heart! And kill you again!"

"You heard it here folks." The woman said. "Looks like the Electrocutioner is calling out the big bad bat. If its real, you can catch the fight of the ages right here!"

The video stopped and Oracle was back. "You wanted Butchinsky."

"Looks like I'm going to the Penguins earlier then I'd plan. Maybe i can find out who he is while I'm there."

"You know this is trap." Said Alfred from the drivers seat.

"Of course it is." Bruce said matter-of-factly. "The best way to deal with a trap is to spring it."

"Butchinsky thinks he can kill you. Those gloves are dangerous. Butchinsky made his name back in Russia with those things." Even with the altered voice Bruce could sense a ping of nervousness from Oracle.

"I can handle it." Bruce said simply. "I'll be there tonight. The sooner I take Butchinsky down the sooner his drugs get off the street. Let me know if you get anything on the members of that chat room." He didn't wait for Oracle to respond before hanging up.

"Sir," Alfred said. "Are you sure its wise to go out as the Batman again so soon. You are injured and you were just poisoned by that... whatever it was."

"I'm fine, Alfred." Bruce said a little more defensively than he intended. "Theres still time before nightfall. When we get back to the cave I need to take a blood sample. See if we can isolate the compound. A drug that induces intense terror. I defiantly have stop that, theres no telling the damage someone could with that, especially in a gaseous form."

Upon arriving at Wayne Manor, Bruce wasted no time in getting down to the caves below. There he drew his blood and set the vile in an analyzer connected to the main computer. While the computer checked his blood, Bruce went back upstairs where he showered, changed his bandages, and ate another one of Alfred's massive burritos.

The results of the blood test were finished by the time he returned to the cave. The analysis could only isolate part of the Fear Toxin, he decided to call it, as time had degraded it. If he had drawn his blood last night then maybe the analyzer could have picked up the whole compound, but maybe the computer could recreate it from the sample he had and make a possible cure from that. It would take time, a lot of time, but Bruce had other business to attend too.

Bruce set the computer to attempt to recreate the Fear Toxin as he suited up. As the sun set, the Batman was ready for the hunt.

OooooO

The Electicutioners fist crashed in the face of another poor soul who thought he could go against him. The smelled of burnt flesh had filled up the underground arena as his gloves pumped electricity into his opponents body through his face. The man jolted in place before collapsing, some of his skin left behind on the knuckles of his glove that burned away from the heat.

It only took one punch to take down a full grown man with his electrical harness. It was what made him famous back home in Moscow in the Bravta. Since taking over the drug trade in Gotham he had left the title of Electrocutioner behind, but the Boss wanted him to take care of this Bat, and the Boss was the one person that all who knew him feared. So when the Boss told you kill someone, you did it, no matter how far up you were. Butchinsky had once see the Boss order a man to murder his own sister, and the man did it without hesitation, more afraid of the Boss than his love for his family.

You didn't disappoint the Boss, it was that simple. He kept Gotham running and, although no one knew who he was, he was doing a better job than anyone before. He owned the city, and by extension everyone in it. So the Electrocutioner was back to end this bat man who thought he could mess with the Boss' business, but also for his own satisfaction.

"And another go's down!" Candy, the woman who ran the fighting ring for the Penguin. Butchinsky had only met him once, he was sleazy little man with greasy hair and a limp in his left leg, but he knew how to run weapons in and out of the city which is why the Boss allowed him to run this underground fighting ring on the side despite complaints from Salvatore Maroni. "Who else thinks they can go toe to toe with the Electrocutioner!" Candy announced. She was loud and annoying, but she looked pleasant to the eye.

Not one person around the ring stepped up this time, suddenly smart enough not to face him. He didn't care. It wasn't them he wanted to fight anyway. He wanted nothing more than to rip the head off of the bat man. And when he did, the Boss would have to give him more credit. The Boss was generous when he was pleased.

"Will no one face the Electrocutioner?" Candy asked the crowed.

"I will!" A deep voice called out, but from where no one could tell.

Butchinsky looked around. Candy looked around. The crowd looked around, but no one saw anyone stepping forward. Instead someone, something, dropped from the ceiling past the cage surrounding the ring. It was tall, and black with pointed ears and glowing white eyes.

"I've been looking for you Butchinsky." The Batman growled. So he was real. And by Candy and the crowds reaction they didn't believe he was real like most people in Gotham. But Butchinsky was smarter than them. He knew the bat was real. He also knew that the bat was just a man. And men can bleed, and if it can bleed it can be killed.

"Well here I am!" The Electrocutioner pounded his fists together, arcing electricity off of them. "Come and get me!"

OooooO


End file.
